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I would have bitten my arm off for this chance a couple of weeks ago, but that was before I started blacking out again. She’s giving me tonight because she knows something’s wrong, and she’s an Alpha. She’s not going to rest until she’s gotten my secret out of me, until she’s found a way to help me. My stomach churns as I shut the cupboard door.
Trouble is this problem doesn’t have a solution.
I get up and try to push it to the back of my thoughts as I move over to my mate and wrap my arms around her from behind. Everett leaves the room quietly, and I feel a little of the tension in my body melt away as his worry follows him out of the kitchen.
“This could work, right?” Cheryl asks, turning her head slightly.
My gaze moves over her dark lips. It takes me a second to pull my focus to the box in her hand.
“That could definitely work,” I tell her. “Can you mix it?”
“Sure,” she says. “You want buttercream, or glace?”
I give it a second of consideration and realize buttercream can’t really be dripped. Decision made.
“Glace. I’ll get the scales. You grab the bowl.”
Cheryl makes the sticky, sweet frosting while I bring the strawberries over to the table.
She brings the bowl over and sets it down beside the fruit.
“Now what?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
“You’ll see,” I promise, leaning in close and swiping a finger through the frosting.
I rest it on her lower lip and she opens her mouth to let me give her a taste.
Her eyelids flutter closed for a second as my finger brushes against her tongue. She sucks lightly and my dick starts to jump around excitedly in my pants. Instantly assuming she’s going to wrap her lips around him next. Presumptuous much?
“Good?” I ask, removing my finger when her mouth lets it go.
“It’s good,” she murmurs, her gaze fixing on mine.
Her dark eyes always seem darker still when she’s aroused.
I feel her desire as it starts to spiral. Everett got her wet before he left. It wasn’t the kiss that did it. It was his growly Alpha presence. She would have broken every rule I laid out if he’d asked, and I know he wanted to demand it. He’s exactly that kind of asshole. It must have taken every last drop of his willpower to walk away.
“I bet I can find something that tastes even better,” I tell her.
She smiles. “I bet you can.”
I lean in to kiss her, and she pulls me in closer by the lapels of my blazer.
I lose myself to sensation and forget everything else.
She’s all that exists in this moment.
Nothing else matters.
She unbuttons my blazer and tugs it off my shoulders. A warning flashes through my brain the second before it drops to the tiled floor. I ignore it, intent on tasting my mate’s mouth for just a little longer. The clanging sound of my flask falling out of the pocket and hitting the tile makes the blood drain from my face. I freeze up, and she breaks the kiss, pulling away to crouch down and pick it up.
A drop of whiskey hits the floor as she gets back to her feet, frowning as her gaze rises back to mine.
Any hope of distracting her from her mission is dashed.
She clears her throat, as panic shoots through my body.
I know what she’s going to ask before she says the words, and still, I can’t think of a damned thing to dissuade her or change the conversation before it starts.
